Abigail took the week off to care for her wounded daughter, and to give her the opportunity to rest. She guided her daughter back to her room when they returned from the hospital, although Arabella seemed understandably hesitant to return.
Her large eyes widened as she saw her room returned to its original state. All of her fabrics and sewing materials had been replaced, cleaned, and neatly put back in their place. It was like no one had ever touched it.
Abigail's hand gingerly touched her shoulder. "Do you like it?" she asked softly. "I tried my best to make it the same as before, but you may need to move a few things around."
Arabella could not say she liked it. In fact, the hole in the bottom of her stomach only grew and gnawed on her insides. Tears of grief filled her eyes, which Abigail mistook for tears of joy.
"I love it, Mummy," Arabella croaked, looking up to her mother's face with a forced smile. "Thank you."
She embraced her. Abigail held her for as long as she needed. "Now, rest," she commanded, as Arabella pulled away. Her daughter nodded obediently and laid down on the bed. Nestling herself within the pristine white sheets, she quickly fell asleep.
Abigail busied herself with work until Arabella awoke hours later in the midst of a nightmare. The dean held her as she screamed and cried, but when questioned, she shook her head and refused to answer.
Arabella had been so quiet with her lately. The two had been so close that Arabella trusted her with almost everything. Now it felt like Arabella could not say anything to her at all.
Her behavior was strange, and what's more, her story didn't check out. Abigail checked the security cameras over and over again, but there was no footage of the burglars. But it was impossible for Arabella to trash her own room and harm herself...wasn't it? If it was, what would bring her to do such a horrible thing to herself? Abigail had made sure Arabella lived in luxury, that she was given anything she wished for, and was never unhappy. Arabella was such a sweet, kind girl. There was no explanation to why she would do this.
But if she didn't, then who did? No one else was at the house. Abigail herself had grilled and interrogated each of her maids, tutors, and assistants, and Arabella approved of them as well. What had caused this?
Perhaps she was overthinking. There was no reason Arabella would lie to her.
As she gave Arabella a soothing cup of tea, the girl pushed against her. "Let's sit at the table," she murmured, already getting up. "I'm not tired anymore."
Without protest, Abigail followed her. She sat down at the opposite end of the table, pouring herself a cup of tea as well.
"Mummy." Her daughter's eyes were blank and lifeless. "Tell me a story."
"A story?" It wasn't an odd request. Abigail often regaled her with stories, either from a book or from her own life.
"Yes. The story of how you met Ms. Flint."
The elder stopped, holding the teapot solidly in midair. She stared at Arabella, but her daughter showed no signs of fear or hesitation. In fact, she looked more resolute than Abigail had ever seen Arabella show.
Sighing, she finally set the teapot down. "It's not a happy one."
"I'm too old for happy stories, Mummy."
"You're never too old to be happy," Abigail murmured softly. Arabella pretended like she never hadn't heard.
A long silence stretched. When Arabella did not change the subject, Abigail knew she could not escape. "I don't even know where to begin," she said finally.
"I'll start. Once upon a time, there was a lonely monstress named Lady Centipede."
"I wasn't lonely," her mother argued.
"She was lonely," Arabella continued, "because she could not find a monster that met her extremely high standards. She keep looking and looking, but no one held her interest for long. She was beginning to think she would never find anyone who she could love."
Abigail's eyes softened with sorrow. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and continued the story. "Having never met a monster who could impress her, she married someone she...did not love. Together, they made a fearsome couple."
When her amber eyes opened once more, her gaze had returned to their cold expression. "They had a beautiful daughter together, who never once disobeyed her mother, and they all lived happily ever after. The end."
Arabella glared.
"Oh, alright, alright," her mother amended. "Soon after they married, Lady Centipede finally found a monstress who impressed her. She was terrifying, and so very, very beautiful. Lady Centipede had never felt anything like what she felt when she was with her. They loved each other." Abigail's eyes flickered with emotion, so much that she missed her daughter's sorrowful expression.
"But." Abigail forced herself back into her steel composure. "They knew it could never be. Still, they met each other in secret, hidden away from the world and its prying eyes. Although she cherished her time with her friend, Lady Centipede knew it could not last."
At this point, Abigail began to struggle with her words. Seeing her trouble, Arabella prompted her. "Then Miss Snake got pregnant."
"Yes," Abigail coughed. "Miss Snake...and I knew—Lady Centipede knew that it was over. And she grieved. Grieved for her lost love, for the feelings that she could no longer feel. Despite her best efforts, a...a part of her was missing."
Arabella spoke up again when Abigail's red claws pressed against her forehead in a pained expression. "Miss Snake had her children anyway," she said, distracting her from her torment.
"Yes. Yes. Miss Snake had her children...twins. A boy and a girl."
Click, clack, click, clack. Bonnie knew better than to leave the windows unlocked.
"What did Lady Centipede think of them?"
A hand gripped the crib gate, a spiked shadow descended on the wall. A baby monstress opened her silver eyes.
"Lady Centipede did not want them."
Her leathery finger pressed against her mouth in a 'shh' gesture. The baby seemed to understand, but held her hands towards her and grabbed at the air. Red claws sunk in the blankets to pick her up.
"Why not?"
The figure stood at the window, the baby nestled in her arms. The baby snuggled into her breast, smiling calmly as she looked up into the shadow's face.
"They were never supposed to exist. They're mistakes born from another mistake."
"You look just like your mother," the figure whispered fondly, stroking the child's cheek. "Oh, my baby girl. You'll grow up so strong."
"You don't mean that," Arabella nearly wept.
"I'm so sorry. I can't be the mother you deserve."
"No," Abigail confessed. "I don't."
"But your mummy will take such good care of you, you won't even need me."
Arabella could always tell when she was lying.
The figure kissed her lovingly on the eyestalks and put her to bed.
Arabella could always see the side of her that was good underneath all of the parts of her that were bad.
"Good night, my children. Sleep well."
She had taken all the love she had for Bonnie and her estranged children and lavished it on Arabella.
Click, clack, click, clack. In the master bedroom, Bonnie had fallen asleep half-dressed. The single mother lifestyle had already taken its toll.
Arabella could see nothing but love in her, because love was all she had given.
"Good night, Bonnie." She stroked Bonnie's cheek and bent down to kiss her softly.
Her daughter could be so naive.
"Goodbye, my love."
A long silence followed. Abigail sipped her tea as if nothing had happened, but Arabella waited until the torrent of emotions in her mother subsided. She could see the way Abigail's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, in the way that she no longer held her teacup white-knuckled, and how her eyes seemed to dim as she grew calmer. When an appropriate amount of time had passed, she spoke before Abigail could change the subject.
"Abby is your daughter, just as I am," she reminded her gently.
This time her mother set her teacup down, clearly frustrated. "I realize that, Arabella, but it's not so simple," she retorted shortly.
"Why not?"
"Why not?" Abigail repeated slowly, her brows rising. Arabella was taken aback: Abigail used that condescending tone to speak to her students, but never to her. Now she realized how humiliated and embarrassed the students felt.
"Yes, Mummy, I'm stupid, explain it to me," her daughter snapped, feeling another flare of defiance rise in her to cover her hurt. "You love Ms. Flint, you care about Abby and Nate—I know you do. So I don't understand why you can't be a part of their lives, why you have to hide from them all the time!"
"I am not—!" Abigail cut herself off, her lips forming a tight line as she attempted to calm herself. Taking a deep breath, she continued in a lower voice. "I know you are angry with me now, Arabella, but one day you will understand why I did what I did."
Arabella's normally warm eyes were now razor sharp and steel cold. "Oh, I understand. I understand that you couldn't risk your reputation being ruined from your mistake, so you threw everyone who truly loved you in the dirt just so you could spare yourself."
"It wasn't just about me, Arabella!" Abigail argued. "What about Bonnie, what about the twins? What about you? Do you know what they would say about you? Everything I ever did was to protect you!"
"By trapping me here? By separating me from my brother and sister, by lying to me?!" Arabella cried. "You know what they say about me now, Mummy? They call me 'The Princess of Scaring'! That should have been Abby's title, and you know it! She works so hard, so hard to be the perfect daughter for you, and you just push her away!"
"That's enough!" Abigail slammed her hands on the table, her chair screeching as she stood. "Arabella, I am done talking about this." Strangely, Arabella wasn't afraid of how dangerously low her voice had gotten. "As your mother, you will respect my decisions. And I do not appreciate this new attitude of yours."
The young girl closed her eyes as Abigail passed her, heading for the door. "Mummy."
The skittering of her mother's legs stopped. Arabella stood, turning to face her mother's back.
"It doesn't have to be like this," she pleaded quietly. "We can be a family."
She couldn't see her mother's face when her back was turned, but when her neck swiveled back she could see that Abigail's eyes were cold and vicious. "I would suggest, Arabella," she replied, "that you get your head out of your storybooks and put it into your scaring books."
Arabella watched as Abigail left, shutting the door behind her. She felt listless for a long moment, her body held up by strings.
Then the rage rose in her again, in full force. It consumed her broken heart and she felt nothing, nothing but pure fury. She relished in the feeling. It made her feel powerful. It boiled her blood, traveling up from her clenched fists and into her throat.
Her fangs parted as she opened her mouth, and out came out a ferocious sound. It was a cross between a scream, a shriek, and a roar. Arabella's roars were novice and unrefined, but it held all of her frustration and hurt, and it felt good to let it out.
But as soon as it came, it was over. The rage melted away. Under the flames, her sadness still remained. It felt like her heart was full of holes. She clutched at her chest and fell to her knees. It wasn't long before soft sobs escaped her throat.
And behind her door stood Abigail Hardscrabble, her eyes shut tight as she listened to her daughter cry.
The Hide and Sneak event went on as planned. The remaining teams were instructed to make their way through a house. Referees were on guard and they faced the added danger of pressure plates and security cameras that would sound off an alarm. PNK were disqualified early on due to a fight breaking out amongst them. They had to be carried out separately as they tried to claw each other.
The crowd watched in awe as the first monster exited. All they could hear from the dark entrance was many layered skittering noises. Finally, two pairs of sharp legs emerged, followed by glowing silver eyes. Abby slowly descended down the stairs as if she hadn't even broken a sweat in the event, her piercing gaze sweeping over the cheering audience. Her sisters quickly followed in various states of exertion.
Seconds later, ROR came running out of the house completely out of breath. Jeremy snarled at the sight of Abby already at the finish line. Then he and the rest of his team were bowled over by a group of students with cameras and microphones. They made a beeline for Abby, who was surrounded by her teammates.
"Abby! Abby!" one girl panted, holding a microphone. The cameras around them flashed, making Abby squint. "Lyla Fae, Campus Roar. Congratulations on another victory for HSS!"
"Thank you."
"It's clear to everyone on campus that since you became the new president, HSS has rapidly risen to the top. What's your secret?"
"Well, if I told you, it wouldn't be much of secret, now would it?" Abby's smirk widened to show her sharp and jagged teeth.
Lyla blushed, but another boy spoke up, whose mouth had been hanging open at Abby since they arrived. "Has anyone told you you look a lot like Dean Hardscrabble?"
"Yes, I get that a lot. But, I assure you, the resemblance is purely coincidental."
"You're often compared to her," Lyla recovered. "How do you feel about that?"
A flicker of emotion passed Abby's eyes for the briefest of moments before they returned to their neutral expression. "It's an honor to be compared to such a legendary woman," she said with a grim smile. "And, of course, I respect her fully. However..."
The journalism group leaned in.
"She broke the scare record so many years ago, and it's been broken since. I'm not saying she shouldn't be respected, but perhaps...it's time for fresh blood." She grinned from eyestalk to eyestalk as the reporters' jaws all dropped. One scribbled furiously on a notebook.
Lyla began to ask another question, but Abby held her hand up to quiet her. "No more questions."
Of course, that didn't mean no more pictures. Abby was enveloped in flashes of light as she turned, her silver eyes fixed on a balcony shrouded in the darkness of the night. No one else could see, but Abby caught the outline of a tall figure with horns.
Abby gave her mother a smug smirk and added a mocking salute before turning to leave.
Had she raised the girl, the dean mused, she would not have been so disrespectful to her mother.